mutant family trobles
by AlexisV78
Summary: ok forgive me. i'm not good with titles or spelling. basicaly, a girl shows up at the mansion, with a bag and a shady pastpresent. she's looking for her dad, but it wouldn't be a good story if someone just handed her a sheet with his name and address on i
1. Chapter 1

The snow came up to her ankles, and was creeping higher with every step. Wind burned her cheeks, tugged at her hair, pulled at her clothes.

"These people are crazy," she thought. A faint dot appeared, one just visible through the snow cascading down in front of her.

"I'll walk, I said. Look at the clouds-won't snow for hours. Idiot!" by now the snow was quickly approaching her knees. She tried to walk faster, slide her legs through the snow, rather than lift them out. It was working. Kinda. Her legs went from feeling like jelly for the past four k's, to having no feeling at all. She wasn't sure which she preferred.

"Urg," she heaved, dropping her bag on the snow, hoping it wouldn't sink or be covered in seconds. Not that she cared much. Because she could finally see the sign.

"'Xavier's school for gifted minds…' and mutant freaks," she muttered. Lifting her head up, she smiled.

"Good-o. Still alive and only have a slight chance of my legs freezing off. Life is good." She looked down to where her bag had been sitting. Only the handle could be seen. She looked up at the sky.

"Funny. Original. Leave me alone!" she looked ahead of her again, and saw a very blue man. "Whoa! You need a bell! Err…hi…?" he nodded at her and reached out to her.

She tried to take a step back.

"Mommy told me not to talk to funny blue men. Or strangers," she said in a mocking voice. He smiled and nodded. Then disappeared.

"On the other hand I wasn't a mommy's girl."


	2. Chapter 2

So, having missed her chance to go _pop_ inside, the girl walked to the front door instead. When she got there, she knocked on the huge wooden door, wondering how anybody could manage to open that. Her whole body shook. But maybe not just from the bitter cold.

"Come on, come on," she whispered. Huge puffs of white frost floated up from her mouth. She crossed her arms, and the bag she had lugged all this way was digging into her skin, even through all the layers of clothing. Finally, the door creaked open. Inwardly, thankfully. And a naturally tanned guy her own age was standing there. She didn't know why she was confused. What was she expecting? This was a _school_. But she knew why she was both confused and disappointed. This guy wasn't her father. Which wasn't to say that her wasn't near, but after all she had endured, it would have been nice that for once, just once, things went how she dreamed they would. How was anybody supposed to survive on hope when there was never any reason given to do so? Snap back to reality. The guy raised his eyebrows, and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. She suddenly felt very self-conscious, standing there with wind blown hair, red cheeks from the cold and blue lips for the same reason. She couldn't even stand straight; her body was shivering so fiercely. Finally, coming all this way, given this faint disappointment, but knowing not all hope was lost, she wanted to just sit somewhere, and cry for herself. She'd walked, through a snowstorm. To find a runaway father. Instead of collapsing like she was literally dying to do, she forced herself to keep upright. Throw in a few words even. Just don't collapse.

"Hi. I, um. Can I come in?" she asked quietly. The guy looked mildly shocked, but for the most part, looked pretty casual. He slid his arm up and stepped back, allowing her just enough room to get past, but forcing her to walk under his arm. Just as she was past, she felt the weight of her bag lifted. Instinctively, she spun, expecting an attack. The door guy was holding the strap of her bag above her arm, so the weight wouldn't be resting on it. He was looking at her, eyebrows raised, as if asking if it was ok. She shook her head. Not in the negative, but to clear her head. He seemed to understand and his mouth twitched up again.

"Sorry, to surprise you," she looked at him, not having anticipated the accent. She tried to place it but couldn't. She smiled, crossed her arms again and nodded. She felt completely overwhelmed. They were standing in a huge foyer; curved stairs hugged the wall on one side. On the other, a huge corridor led to what looked liked another waiting area, and a games room. The polished wood and rich carpers threw her off. This was a _school_. It seemed too exclusive to be a school. Many decorative items lined the hallway, and plush chairs were strategically scattered around the room. She breathed in deeply, and then exhaled. It seemed as if ice was lining her throat, because suddenly it hurt so much to breath warm air, she started to choke. The guy swore, and ran off to a side room, dropping her bag as he went. He came running back, a glass of warm water in his hand. He managed to force it down her throat. The burning in her throat stopped, and though she was relieved she couldn't help but cough up some water. The guy was patting her back, which wasn't really helping, but the gesture was comforting. Just once, she thought, it would be nice if things went right. When she stood up, the guy was chuckling softly. She flushed. I couldn't help it, she thought. It must have shown on her face because he stopped laughing, and kept a straight face.

"Sorry, " he said, sounding it too. Then seriously he said, "Look, you showed up on the doorstep and I let you in and saved your life," she opened her mouth to protest. Her life hadn't needed saving. He continued.

"There was ice lining you throat. With out the warm water to dissolve it, the ice would drip down into your lungs and-" she held up a hand. _Way _too vivid.

"Yeah, yeah, ok. Ew." He smiled at that. Then he picked up her bag and led her down a hallway.

"So, don't you think you own me an explanation?" he asked. Only he had no idea what he was asking of her. She hadn't told anybody about her "mission." To tell a perfect stranger? No way. So she told a half-truth, like she always did automatically now.

"I'm looking for some-one…" she trailed off, gazing around st her surroundings. She was being led through a series of corridors, hallways; past glass rooms into lifts and finally, stopped outside a door. He knocked. A crisp voice replied.

"Come in miss, Gambit." The door guy smiled at her puzzled expression, bordering on panic. The voice came from _inside_ her head.

"Who's…" she started to asked as the guy opened the door. An old man sitting in a wheelchair, answered her question, though she had only thought it.

"I," he said, "am Professor Charles Xavier. This young man is Gambit. And I see you have already met Kurt-night crawler. I assure you, as he will, that his appearance was an offering of help. He is sorry to cause offence…" He trailed off, leaving he room to apologize as she knew she should. As far as she could tell, this man, sounding rather regal, was genuinely nice. She frowned. Nobody's nice, she reminded her self, not when it matters anyway.

"Sorry, I didn't realize." Her guards were high up. Nobody had ever thrown her this much. Not in such a short amount of time, she thought bitterly.


	3. Chapter 3

Charles Xavier, the old man in the wheel chair, had sent Gambit away. Once Gambit left, he talked to her, about unimportant things at first, but gradually he turned the subject to her life. And why she was at his school. He must know, she thought. He had told her that he was a telepath. How could he not know? She had mentally tried to block the information. This mostly consisted of saying, over and over-_I'm not thinking of anything, leave me alone._ After so much effort, she was surprised to find herself telling him anyway. Or at least, wanting to.

"My father's…missing. He, uh, he left, and I just…" she looked down at her lap. Shut up, she told herself. Shut up, shut up, shut up. Her stomach churned. She felt sick. Her head felt like it was spinning, while the rest of her body felt numb. She didn't want to say anything. She wanted to go and sit in a quiet, dark, small place and cry to herself. Then she would be ok. Or at least that's what she would tell people. Sometimes she tried to tell herself that, that she was ok. It never worked. Maybe, she thought, looking up again, if she told someone the truth, she really would be ok. She shook her head. Her mouth moved. In her mind she could hear the words, but she didn't have the strength to say them aloud. This always happened. Whenever she came close to telling someone the truth, she bottled up more than ever. Every time she tried to tell someone, it got harder and harder. She knew that one day she wouldn't even be able to consider telling someone the truth, no matter how much she wanted to. Xavier nodded. Then he smiled as if he understood everything.

"I took your extreme want to tell somebody the truth as an invitation to be told." This was his way of telling her that he had read her mind. There was a pause, which grew into an eerie silence, as both seemed to what the other to speak first. Before either gave in, a sob broke the silence. Though her head stopped spinning and the pain in her heart that she had felt since her father left was gone, she felt a new pain. This one was greater than before. It was a pain for herself and all that she been though. She cried until eventually she ran out of tears and it became too hard to breathe. The Professor was holding her arm, a comforting gesture. She knew her eyes were bloodshot, and that her skin was sickly pale. She was still struggling to breathe properly and yet…she felt ok, for real this time. For the first time. The professor smiled at her again.

"After your trying day you should rest. I'll have a room prepared for you. If you feel up to it, I'm sure Gambit would be more than happy to show you around. Though I should think you would like to save that for another day…?" She nodded, certain that she didn't have enough oxygen to speak. There was a knock at the door, and it inched open. It was the blue man, Night crawler, the professor called him. He nodded to her, and then looked over her shoulder to address the Professor.

"You called me, Professor?" Xavier smiled, and indicated to the girl.

"This young lady will require a room, do you think you could show her to room 104-the eastern wing?" Kurt made a move to collect her bag, which Gambit had left for her. She smiled and thanked him, but she preferred to carry her own things. They were all she had.

" I would honored sir," Kurt turned from the professor to face the girl.

"May I ask your name, miss?" She noticed that the Professor smiled and raised his eyebrows slightly, as if curious. She cleared her throat, mostly to save her some time. She mentally sorted through all the fake names she'd created for herself previously. But then she saw the Professor and Kurt looking at her intently, as if they actually cared. She could have kicked herself when she told them her real name.

"Alyce. Ally, my dad called me…" her voice trailed off and her eyes seemed unfocused. The Professor cleared his throat.

"Thank you Kurt, get some rest, Alyce."


	4. Chapter 4

The Professor had said, "Get some rest." And she did. The moment she hit her pillow, she fell asleep. But as every night, her dreams were interrupted by memories. Memories of her normal life, back at school. Memories of her family, together and happy. Then of her mum becoming sick. The family seemed to deteriorate as she did, arguing-because it was easier than talking. Avoiding each other for the same reason. Endless days at the hospital. And then, the last memory, her father, going for coffee at the hospital canteen and never coming back. Alyce woke, shivering because of the freezing air and the cold sweat on her forehead. She stumbled towards the bathroom, feeling sick. She turned the light on. It burned her eyes and made her head throb. She hastily flicked it off. She sank to the floor. Her cheek as pressed against cold tiling. Slowly the nausea faded, and left her with that horrible feeling of being alone. She returned to her bedroom, stopping to turn on the lamp, squinting so it would have he same effect as the bathroom light. It didn't. She crossed to her wardrobe, her clothes already on their hangers. The first time they hadn't been stored in her bag for months. She pulled off the flannelette PJ's and instead pulled on jeans, a hoodie and ugg boots. She swept her hair back into a ponytail. Lastly, she picked up her key and jammed it into her jeans pocket. She left the room, shutting the door without it creaking and quietly stepped out into the darkness. She counted the doors as she pasted them. When she got to the sixth one, she tapped softly. There was a moment of silence, and she turned back towards her room, knowing she had been stupid. It must have been two in the morning. Then she jumped as she heard the door swing open. A dark figger blended in with the shadows surrounding him.

"Sorry," she whispered, "I just…it's too creepy, being alone…uh, don't worry." She shook her head, and turned to leave. When she heard him speak, Alyce knew that she hadn't woken him.

"It's ok, I wasn't sleeping. There is a very good show on TV. About some… 'Ghostbusters' I believe they are called." Night crawler stepped aside, allowing her in. Inside, the telly was projecting various colored lights onto he wall. A bag of chips were open, on the bad, and a book was open halfway, facing down onto the mattress. She sat on a velvet covered chair , in the corner. Kurt started to talk, just letting her listen, at first. Then he began to ask questions, drawing her into conversation. He told her about the marks on his arm's and back. They are angelic symbols, by Gabriel. Had she ever heard of him? No, but she'd seen _Constantine_ and their was a Gabriel angel in that. Kurt had liked that movie. What other movies was he in? _The Matrix_ she answered. Ahh, yes he said. Everybody talked about that movie. They must have talked for an hour, and eventually her eyelids became heavy, and seemed to close at their own accord. She was still listening though, even mumbled an answer occasionally. Perhaps it was the softness of the velvet against her skin, or the stressful events of the day. Perhaps, even, it was the company. Probably all, that made her drift into a deep sleep. There were no memories, not even nightmares or dreams. Just a blackness that she welcomed after months of exertion and sleepless nights, without a father.


	5. Chapter 5

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Beams of light danced on a blanket thrown over her when she moved. Her joints felt stiff. Prying her eyes open she saw Kurt asleep on the bed, the TV still blaring. The smiled and pulled her self up off the chair. Without making a noise, she crossed the room, opened the door, and left. Outside, in the corridor, students were milling around. She ran to her room, changed, pulled back her hair then rushed out. Gambit caught her arm on the way out. She smiled at him.

"Morning," he said, sounding like he had just crawled out of bed. She laughed, and he led her through the corridors towards the breakfast area. She looked at all the faces that passed her, trying to remember names and identities when Gambit pointed a few out. Then she stopped dead. Gambit frowned at her.

"Alyce?" he asked, "what's wrong?" she starred ahead of them, her eyes glued to the back of a retreating finger. Gambit was frowning at her, trying to follow her eyes when they flickered around her and back to the man striding down the corridor.

"Dad," she whispered, her voice breaking.

"Dad!" she called loaded. She frowned when he didn't turn. He should recognize her voice. He hadn't been gone that long…had he?

"Dad," she called one last time, a tear streaming down her cheek. Please don't let it be him, she thought, I couldn't handle it if he didn't even recognize me. She suddenly became mad.

"Logan!" she yelled, loader than ever before, an edge in her voice. Gambit's face paled. Slowly, Logan turned, casually as if nothing were wrong. It was probably just a student. The sudden anger faded when she saw his face, exactly the same, as it had been the last time she had seen him.

"Dad!" she ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He turned to stone as she clung to him. She let go. She looked up at his confused face.

"don't you remember me?" she whispered, the hurt clearly heard. He bit his lip, and shook his head slowing. He didn't remember anything about his life before…

"Look, kid," he said gently, "I don't remember anything, ok? We should…your mum here?" he asked, confused and, yes, he admitted to himself, scared out of his mind. She backed away from him. The anger but, but more overwhelming was the pain.

"What? You didn't get the message? The email? Nothing, not even the post-it? Christ, dad, I had to leave a message at your _work_. You didn't get any of it?" she paused. He shook his head.

"Mum's dead." She wasn't sure the words could be heard by anyone else but herself, they were almost silent. He swore and raked a hand through his hair. He didn't know what to do, he'd never been good with kids, but a teenaged girl telling him he was her father? He'd only ever seen it on daytime soapies. This was real life. Be tactful; be careful, he told himself. She swore back at him and turned to run. He caught up with her in a few steps. He reached out to her arm. She whirled, clipping his chin. It hurt. But he held on. She punched him, and then leapt into the air to kick his chest. He knew that she would, but he let her. What else could he do?

"Leave me alone," she spat at him, as he staggered backwards. He reached out again.

"Don't touch me! Get off!" she squirmed under his iron grip, to messed up to fight now.

"LET GO," she roared at him, tears dripping down her cheeks, onto her jumper. Then her skin became hot. It burned his fingers and he let go. Then she began to glow, a brilliant yellow light. He reached out to her. Then it seemed that the light itself had exploded, engulfing everything around it, throwing Logan and Gambit backwards. Logan opened his eyes. The light had disappeared. His daughter was curled on he ground, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. She made a strange, eerie keening sound the he knew baby wolf cubs made. Her face was twisted in pain, soaked in tears. It broke his heart that he hadn't even realized existed. He scooped her off the floor and she felt so fragile and weak, so tiny, held close to him. She held onto him with the little energy she had left and whispered, "I'm sorry daddy. My name's Ally." He patted her back as he carried her to Jean's office.


End file.
